


Saving the Savior

by SassyGrape



Category: Red Dead Redemption, rdr2 - Fandom
Genre: Awkward Charles is not good with emotions, But Soft Boy Charles y'know, Charles would def safe you from the bad boys, F/M, M/M, bang bang bad guys get what they deserve, more action than fluff I guess, savior needs saving, that's some high honor stuff here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 00:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17456786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyGrape/pseuds/SassyGrape
Summary: You just needed to get some groceries from Valentine when something really disturbs your eye. You maybe overestimated your skills.





	Saving the Savior

It wasn't supposed to go like this. You had set out at first light to get some groceries and post a letter from Pearson, and now this. Just underneath you, on a small plain close to Valentine, you could make out a group of about ten men, chasing after two girls. The men were on horses. Well, you were on your horse, too. But ten men were, well, ten men. And you were alone, just accompanied by canned food, some meat and soap. Of course you had your gun and knife with you – not that this would make any difference if you should decide to help these girls. Which, of course, you had to.  
You just didn't want to be alone with that. You wished for Arthur or Javier or Charles to help you. Or even Lenny. Any of them men who were good shoots. But none of your fellows was here with you as this nice shopping trip turned into a hunt for assholes.  
Cursing yourself under your breath for going alone, you spurred your horse and followed the group. Maybe you could take out one or two before all of them noticed somebody was chasing them down. Which you dared doubting.  
But no way would you turn away when there were girls in danger. That just wasn't how you acted. Of course, you're an outlaw, running from the law, not paying taxes and everything – but you were by no means a bad person. Whenever you could, you helped those in need and robbed the rich. 

As you got closer to the men, you could hear their shouts and laughters and if you tried really hard, you could even hear the girls shriek in terror. Anger built up in your stomach and worked its way up to your chest and throat, you gritted your teeth. These bastards.  
Mumbling into the ear of your horse, you spurred it even more, leaning close to its neck, almost becoming one in silhouette. With a swift movement you grabbed some of your throwing knives, having them ready. Silence, you figured, was key right now.  
The men were chasing the girls into nearby woods, making it a game to herd them around like sheep.  
You got closer to the last two of the group. Close enough to throw your knives. Still there was the chance to just leave it. To not risk your life for strangers. But the cries of the girls grew louder and more desperate as the laughters and naughty comments of their chasers got more intense. You were the only one around to save them from being beaten, raped or worse.  
Luckily Charles had taught you how to use these knives, in long evening hours he'd shown you how to throw, which was the right angle to do so and how to hold your wrist in the process. You could almost hear his deep, assuring voice in your head, mumbling close beside your ear.  
>Stay still, Y/N. Stay calm. Focus.<  
You took some deep breaths, then focussed on the last rider. He was the only thing to concentrate on now. Your horse almost flew over the ground, gracefully it carried you, holding a steady pace.  
>Aim carefully, you don't wanna miss, Y/N. If you miss, you lose. It's just a small knife.<  
So, you aimed thoroughly, raising your arm so you wouldn't accidentally kill your horse.  
>Throw the knife when you breathe out.<  
And that's what you did. After letting out a deep breath, you threw the small knife into the nape of the last rider. Without making any noise, the man just slid off his horse, hitting the ground. Pale sunlight reflected in his shocked eyes. You rode past him and his prancing, irritated horse. Nine to go. And just five more knives.  
You took out another two riders, then you allowed yourself to think of this as possibly survivable. If you stayed lucky like that, you'd make it out alive, as well as the girls. That would be something remarkably good, you thought.  
Unfortunately, when you threw the next knife, wind turned and it just hit the shoulder of the man who rode in front of you. He let out a cry of pain, throwing wild glances around. Cursing, you threw the next knife, missing again. The man screamed out again, now alarming the others while pulling out the knives. The rest of the gang stopped chasing the girls, leading their horses to where the ruckus came from. You decided that you wanted to get out of that.  
Fuck, you thought, as you realized that there were seven armed men surrounding you. They had all but one drawn their weapons at you. This ain't good. Not at all.  
“Who the hell are ya?”, one of the men – obviously their leader, since he didn't seem to feel the need to intimidate you with his gun – shouted into your face, spit flying around. You felt a knot of slight fear tightening your chest, suddenly breathing got harder. But you'd gotten yourself into that situation so you better get out of it on your own, too. Because, there was nobody help you now, except yourself.  
“Leave them gals alone”, you ordered in your most stern voice, forcing yourself to sound stone cold.  
“Uh, and why would we, hm? That why ya killed my men?” He leaned forward and you could see his yellowish teeth.  
“Ya. Sure.” Death suddenly became a very possible outcome for you. Though, you really couldn't help it, diplomacy wasn't your thing at all. Brutal honesty fitted you best. At times like these you surely wished it'd be different so you could talk your way out of it. But then again - who would not avenge their killed gangmembers if there was the opportunity to do so?  
“Because of two dirty gals?”  
“Yes.”  
“That's not clever.” The man gave you a creepy yellow grin and you promised yourself to never ride out alone again. Ten to one just wasn't your thing, way too dangerous and not fun at all. You gulped as he pulled out his gun, cocking it ready.  
From where you stood – surrounded by bandits and clearly doomed to die today, on such a nice warm spring day – you could see the girls running back to Valentine. If you'd manage to keep these bastards in front of you occupied with you for just a few minutes, then the girls could make it back in time.  
Before you even managed to create a clever plan, a loud shot pierced the tense silence – causing the head of the leader of the gang to snap back, blood pouring out of the lethal wound in his forehead.  
Somebody helped you!  
Quickly you threw the last knives in your hand into the necks of the bandits, your thighs squeezing your horse so it'd prance and give you some space to flee out of the circle of nasty man. Around you the bandits didn't know what to aim for, shooting around but luckily missing you in their distress. Your heart beat fast as you turned around, grabbing your gun with cold fingers and shooting two of the men. Birds flew up into the cloudless sky, chirping fearfully as the gunshots mixed with pained screams roared over the plain. 

Not even two minutes passed and all the guys were dead, their horses fled. You were alone with ten corpses, sweaty hands and a dry throat.  
That was close, you told yourself. Too close for your liking.  
Just then you heard hooves clattering towards you and as you blinked against the sun you thought you might recognize the person who had helped you.  
“That was damn close.” Causing his horse to stop at your side, the man who saved you frowned. “What were ya doin' anyway out 'ere?”  
“Charles!" You couldn't help but feel intense relief, seeing him here. Slowly you felt the tension in your body release. Just then you remembered he'd asked you something. "I was saving some maids in distress.” You sighed deeply, caressing the mane of your horse. “Though, I was 'bout to get killed, so. Thanks.”  
“How comes you always get in trouble, Y/N?”  
“Maybe that's just how I am?”, you managed to grin at him. With Charles around you needn't to be afraid of anything. He was strong and skilled and calm and so very responsible. You dismounted your horse and started looting the corpses, couldn't hurt to get what little they had in their pockets. Charles just watched you from Taimas' back, following your fast and practised movements. While going through the pockets of the leader, you looked up at him. “What where you doin' here anyway?”  
“Was buyin' some ammunition in Valentine and heard 'bout a ruckus nearby.” He didn't look at you, probably because he knew what was about to come.  
“So you went and had to just.. see what was goin' on?” You snickered. “You are a very nosy man, Mister Smith.”  
“I wouldn't put it that way...”  
“Well, how then?” You shot him a playful glance. “You tellin' me you always go check what's goin' on if there's ruckus? You'd be the best man I know if it's that way.” You stuffed the spoil in your saddle bag, then got onto your horse again; still waiting for an answer though.  
But he stayed quiet and you got the feeling that either you'd hurt him or pissed him of, likely both. You sighed. Sometimes you wondered if that man would ever allow himself some fun unless while being tipsy. 

You rode in silence back to camp, but just before you could get into hearing range of the camp guard Charles stopped Taima and signified you to do the same. He even dismounted his horse and because you were just as curious as you were honest you did so, too.  
“Is somethin' the matter, Charles?”, you dared to ask, your eyes searching his face for any hint. But his dark irises never told you anything except that this huge man was one big mystery to you. He hadn't been shaving for about three days, you noticed. Somehow that looked good, though you only knew him well shaved, his scar clearly visible.  
“Y/N, I won't always be there to safe you”, he finally said, followed by a sigh.  
“I know that.”  
“Then why are ya always getting into trouble like that?”  
“Are you scoldin' me? Because I don't need that now.”  
For just a second you saw resentment flicker in his eyes, then something else digged its way up. To you, it seemed like worry and affection.  
“I know. Just... stay out of trouble, 'kay?”  
“Charles – why are you tellin' me that?”  
“You're important to the group.” He clearly evaded your question.  
Nah, you wouldn't have that now, nearly escaped death today. You stepped closer to the man who stood like a rock in every stressful situation, who never flinched when it came to kill the scum of humanity. “Am I important to you, then?”  
“Sure, you are.”  
“Could it be you were worried and followed me 'cause of that today?”, you went on, your fingers provokingly playing with the decoration on his leather vest. Underneath his clothes you could feel him tense up. Noticing that, you felt an unfamiliar warmth spreading through your stomach and chest. Sure, Charles was a fine man, always treating people right, calm and respectful. But would you say you liked him more than you should? Having a crush on him? You didn't secretly drool over him, that had never been the case. But somehow you got the feeling you should have done. Just now, as his gaze met yours and you felt sensitive and safe, you thought that you'd missed out building up feelings for him. For now they all crushed over you at once: admiration, affection, comfort – all these soft feelings seemed to bury you now in their cozy warmth, leaving you breathless. Such a reachtion - caused only by that one tender gaze from Charles. You felt your mouth get dry.  
“Yes, I was worried 'bout you, Y/N.” He still looked at you, his hand finding yours, so you'd stop playing with his vest. His fingers entangled with yours, his rough, warm skin against your soft. You had to use all your strength to not take in a sharp breath of surprise. Or to just lean into him.  
“Can't blame you, though”, you tried to laugh it off, souding unfortunately a tad shaky.  
“I'm serious, Y/N. Try to tone that down. I couldn't stand-” His deep, melodic voice trailed off.  
There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, Charles still playing with your fingers, lost in thoughts, not able to actually vocalize them. You cleared your throat and dared to look him in his eyes.  
“I couldn't stand losing you, too, Charles”, you finally mumbled, heat rising into your cheeks.  
He just nodded softly at that and squeezed your hand before letting go of you. He mounted Taima again, while you struggled to get onto your horse. Your legs felt too shaky. Waiting for you, Charles seemed to look at you differently now. You gulped. Would it be like this from now on? Awkward and sweet? You rode to his side.  
“Sorry, Y/N... I'm not good with these things.” The man gave you a sorry look.  
“Charles... me neither.” You allowed yourself a cheeky smile, which your savior gladly returned. Maybe you'd turn that danger-thing down. But getting protected by Charles surely was charming. You had to think this over.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again a late night work, I can't help but think about Charles as the softest man who's sometimes just super awkward.  
> It's not even sooo much fluff, but I needed to get this scenario off my chest. Thanks for taking your time lovelies :)


End file.
